


Mixed Signals

by skyewatson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 10 things I hate about you reference, Angst, Crying, Developing Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pool, Sexy Times, Smut, Stackson - Freeform, Stackson teen wolf, Stiles needs to stop overthinking things, Tears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:25:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyewatson/pseuds/skyewatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t express myself as well as I should.”</p><p>“No you do, perfectly.” Stiles pulled away, swimming to the edge of the pool.</p><p> </p><p>He pulled himself out, cringing as he pulled his jeans over his wet body and his erection. He threw on his shirt and turned around to take one last look at Jackson, still in the middle of the pool, as gorgeous as ever.</p><p> </p><p>“You know just 'cause you're beautiful, that doesn't mean that you can treat people like they don't matter.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mixed Signals

After the whole holding-Derek-and-his-fat-ass-up-in-the-school-pool-for-two-hours incident, Stiles had sworn he was never going near a pool again. Because that whole episode had fucking sucked especially because Scott had hung up on him and he and Derek had almost drowned. So, yeah, he’d made himself promise he was never going near water again. But apparently that promise meant nothing because here he was in his boxers watching Jackson jump into the pool in front of him.

He seriously had no idea how he got into these kinds of situations. Stiles had been so preoccupied about werewolves and passing chemistry and the whole not dying thing that it hadn’t occurred to him that he should have been worried about having a midnight swim with Jackson fucking Whittemore. But now he was in this situation because this was Stiles’ life. And while that included being constantly put in life threatening situations due to the fact that he was friends with werewolves, he hadn’t thought his life had included really confusing situations with the co-captain of the lacrosse team.

 

“Are you coming in or not?” Jackson asks, smirking.

 

Stiles sighed and jumped in the pool, pushing aside any thoughts that could lead him into having an internal freak out. The water wasn’t cold yet it wasn’t warm. It offset the summer air and it was different to what he thought it would be. If Jackson knew the reason why he inched to a shallow part of the pool he could stand on with both feet he didn’t mention it. 

He watched as Jackson did a few laps before stopping in front of him. Stiles swallowed nervously as the jock moved right into his personal space. He tried to ignore Jackson’s biceps and pectoral muscles and the way his six pack stood out in the moonlight. He really tried to ignore his stupid cheekbones and the way Jackson’s nipples pebbled from the change in temperature. But most of all he was trying to ignore the stupid smirk on Jackson’s face that really didn’t make him feel any more comfortable with the situation he let himself get into.

 

“I know you want to ask, Stilinski.” 

“Why did you bring me here?” He blurts out immediately. 

“Because I’ve been watching you.”

“And that doesn’t sound creepy. Not at all.”

Jackson rolled his eyes and moved closer, backing Stiles up against the wall of the pool. “I see the way you look at me in the change rooms. I’ve noticed how you’re always watching me during training. The fact that your eyes are glued to me when you think no one is watching. But I have a question.”

“What is it?” Stiles chokes out. 

“How long did it take you to admit to yourself that it’s not really Lydia you’ve been watching when you’ve been staring at us this last year?”

Stiles tries to look away but Jackson grips his jaw in his hand, making Stiles look at his face. He’s not sure what he’s waiting for, maybe a punch or a good clawing from the werewolf. Nothing happens, they just stand there, pectoral high in water against the tiled pool wall. Stiles wants to say something but his brain won’t connect to his mouth and he’s kind of glad because he’s entirely sure if he was he would have said something really stupid by now. His breath, however, does hitch, loud in the quiet of Jackson’s backyard when the other teen leans in closely.

 

“Or maybe you haven’t yet.” Jackson breathes into his ear.

“I don’t like you.” Stiles manages to choke out.

“Really?” 

“Really.”

“So you won’t like it if I do this?”

 

Jackson’s hand moved from his jaw down to his chest, rubbing across his nipples. Stiles tries to ignore the way it makes him want to shudder. Jackson’s hands run down his barely defined stomach because not everyone in his grade has abs of steel thank you very much. He massages into the skin, into the sharp lines of his hips and Stiles wants to moan but he can’t because then Jackson will win. And he thinks Jackson might be finished making his point when a hand dips into his boxers, wrapping around his erection but when Stiles turns his head and looks away at anything but Jackson, the guy latches onto his neck, sucking the soft wet skin there. 

 

Eventually the athlete lets go of his neck, a hand sliding out of Stiles’ boxers. Stiles looks at Jackson in the eye and tries to keep his voice level. “I don’t like it.”

Jackson sighs and moves away. “Shame, because I was almost positively sure you would like the blowjob I was going to give you when we get out of this pool.”

 

Well fuck because that doesn’t make Stiles want to kiss him. Not at all. And the fact that Jackson Whittemore of all people wants to give him a blowjob is even more confusing. Because sure, Stiles had noticed he was hot but everyone knew that. But he’d been sure that Jackson was straight as possible but maybe he wasn’t just incredibly self-assured, maybe this wasn’t just an elaborate humiliating joke just waiting to blow up in his face.

Stiles ignored the millions of reasons as to why what he was about to do was such a bad idea and moved forward, kissing Jackson. The jock kissed him back, experienced lips taking charge of the kiss. Stiles let himself be backed into the pool wall again, gasping when Jackson lifted him up underneath his thighs, pushing his body into the space between his legs. Jackson grinded into him, wrapping Stiles’ thighs against his waist, pinning him up against the wall so he could use his hands to tease Stiles’ body. 

Stiles hands clutched at Jackson’s back, nails digging into the muscled skin. This whole situation was insane, something out of the fantasies in the far corner of his mind. Stiles was all but rutting up against Jackson when the teen bit and sucked at the underside of his neck. He could feel Jackson’s grin against his skin; he could tell the lacrosse player loved how unhinged he was making Stiles. 

Eventually Jackson moved on from his neck, hands moving from where they’d been stuck to Stiles’ ass. He deftly pulled down Stiles’ boxers moving backwards in the water so he could unhook Stiles’ legs and drag the offending item of clothing off his body. Stiles flailed as he tried to stop himself from going under and Jackson smirked, quickly pulling off his own boxers, letting them go under the water. Jackson moved back closer and Stiles’ couldn’t hold back a moan when their naked bodies pressed together tightly. He kissed the jock eagerly, wondering if he was any good at it because it wasn’t like Stiles had a lot of people lining up to kiss him. 

Stiles scratched his fingernails across Jackson’s back as he dragged his hand upwards, burrowing his fingers into the blonde hair. Jackson kissed him harder, pulling Stiles’ body in closer when the brunet tightened his grip on Jackson’s hair. Stiles made a mental note that Jackson liked it, suddenly wondering if this was ever going to happen again or if Jackson was just really, really dedicated when it came to his idea of a practical joke. He pulled away, looking at the guy in front of him.

 

“Why are you doing this?” He asks.

“What do you mean?”

“You hate me. Why would you do this?”

“You hate me too. Why would you come over?”

“You asked me to.”

Jackson grins and kisses him. “Exactly.”

“I’m serious Jackson,” Stiles pushed him away. “I need to know why you’re doing this. Is this to prove to yourself that everyone likes you? Because mission accomplished if that’s the reason. Mission fucking accomplished.”

“Why do I need a reason, Stiles?”

“Because there has to be some logical reason as to why you’re kissing me. People like you don’t kiss people like me.”

“Am I not good enough for you, Stilinski?”

“See there we fucking go, one minute I’m Stiles and then I’m Stilinski. Do you know how many mixed messages you send Jackson? You’ve made life hard for me since middle school. You’re always saying cruel things. Yesterday you pushed me into a locker and now you’re pulling my boxers off me in your pool.”

“I don’t express myself as well as I should.”

“No you do, perfectly.” Stiles pulled away, swimming to the edge of the pool.

 

He pulled himself out, cringing as he pulled his jeans over his wet body and his erection. He threw on his shirt and turned around to take one last look at Jackson, still in the middle of the pool, as gorgeous as ever.

 

“You know just 'cause you're beautiful, that doesn't mean that you can treat people like they don't matter.”

 

And Stiles walked away. He picked up his sneakers and walked out the side of Jackson’s house, climbing into his Jeep. He turned the heater on, shivering as he drove the dark streets home. Stiles ignored the empty feeling when he saw his empty driveway. He ignored the crumpled McDonald’s bag half hidden in the trash and ignored the fact that between the pictures of his mother buried in storage and his father never home, it felt like he was the only one that lived in this house. But most of all he as he pulled off his wet clothes, changed into the batman pajamas he always wore when he was sick and climbed into bed, he tried ignore the tears that been slipping down his cheeks ever since he pulled out of Jackson’s driveway.


End file.
